


hold me in your arms while i try to hold myself together

by sekhmettt



Series: fate chose me and you [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: (kind of), (not really) - Freeform, Angst, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Rare Pairings, anti-Rhaegar, i'm just covering my bases with that tag lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekhmettt/pseuds/sekhmettt
Summary: Elia finds her husband in the crypts, and they finally breach a topic they had been avoiding: Lyanna Stark.
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, (past), Elia Martell/Ned Stark, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Series: fate chose me and you [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917352
Comments: 20
Kudos: 175
Collections: Southern Renaissance (Dorne Renaissance)





	hold me in your arms while i try to hold myself together

**Author's Note:**

> Note this is a bit of a time skip. This is four years after the Rebellion ended, at this point.

Elia cannot find her husband and has not seen him all day. It isn’t until she speaks to Rhaenys who shivers and informs her that he went to the ‘scary place’ that Elia realizes where he has been. She recognizes Rhaenys’ concern. Even Elia, woman grown as she is, feels unwelcome in the crypts of the Starks.

Yet, he has been there for hours, and if he is mourning his family, she will not let him weather through it alone.

Steeling herself, she carries her lantern at her side and heads down, thankful that she does not have to go far. The statues of his family are the newest, after all. She doesn’t speak but he must know it is her, for he does as she is settling her lantern on the floor, “It’s her name day. She would be a woman truly grown now.” Curling her arm around his, Elia rests her head against his shoulder, following his gaze up to the statue of Lyanna. 

Ned continues, unprompted, before she can speak, console him, “I do not know if I should hate her for what she caused. But I don’t. I can’t. I mourn her too much for that.” Face pained, he squeezes his eyes shut and Elia presses closer to his side, frowning. In nearly four years of marriage, they have not spoken on Lyanna, not in any true depth.

Voice gentle, she assures him, “You shouldn’t hate her. She is your sister and she was a child, who made a mistake.”

“A mistake that started a war.” He shoots back, tone sharp, before near instantly reaching up to cover her hand on his arm, a silent apology for snapping.

Elia hums, shaking her head, wondering if this is the time and place to say as much, but finding no reason not to speak, “It’s a pretty tale, that the Rebellion was fought over the love of a woman, but it’s not true. If they had simply run away together, there would have been hurt feelings and anger, but that is where it would have ended. No one would have picked up arms, not even for a woman who some thought kidnapped. It was Aerys, and the murder of your father and brother that truly started things, and you cannot blame her for that. He was mad.”

“Yes, but what if –“

Now she is the one with the sharp tone, cutting him off, “Asking _what if_ is the surest way to never move on.” She gentles her words, continuing, ever pragmatic, “We cannot wonder what if. We know what has happened, and now we must live with it.”

“Do you hate her?” Ned asks, and she glances up at him, notes his guileless gray eyes. He would not blame her if she said yes. He would not be upset if she spewed vitriol and anger. He would understand, even if he would not like it. Yet, he has no need to fear that.

“No. She was just a girl, who by all rumors disliked her betrothed. Do I wish she had done her duty instead? Yes. Do I blame her for wanting to avoid marriage to Robert? No. Do I wish she had chosen any other man, any other marriage?” Here, she hesitates. “Yes and no.” Ned remains silent, letting her gather her thoughts. “Maybe if they hadn’t run away together, the war wouldn’t have happened. But I wouldn’t be here. My children wouldn’t be here. I’d forever be terrified of what happens next. King’s Landing is…not a kind place. I’m glad to raise my children here and I’ll be glad if Rhaenys marries a Northern lordling and Aegon becomes a hedge knight. I want them happy and I want them safe, and that never would have happened if they were raised in the Red Keep as heirs to the gods awful throne.” And it’s true. She knows that even now, her children are at risk, but that can be abetted by marriages to low houses as they age. She knows some would see Aegon as a maester or at the Wall, but she will not let that happen. They will have to be content without that. Perhaps he will stay in Winterfell, as his brother’s master in arms. Perhaps he will be given a keep in the North and take a new name for it. She doesn’t care, but she won’t lose him to oaths.

Before she can continue down that winding path of what fears the future still brings, her husband speaks again, “Did you love Rhaegar?” She doesn’t look at her husband, but she hears the tremulous, uncertain quality in his voice and squeezes his arm. He has nothing to fear from a dead man, regardless of her feelings. Still, she will give him this, after all he has told her.

Elia inhales slowly, exhaling her answer, “I did, once.” She lets out a soft laugh, “He was _the_ _Silver Prince_ and he was _kind_ to me. When many others saw nothing more than a frail Dornish girl, he would speak to me like I was his equal, ask my opinion with the intention of actually listened. He recognized my mind was stronger than my body ever would be.” She swallows hard, for she still has it in her to grieve for the man he once was, even if she does not miss the man he became, “It wasn’t the Tourney of Harrenhal that changed my feelings, though that was the final nail in the coffin of anything I felt for him, I think. He grew distant and obsessed over prophecy. He cared more about having three children – three heads of the dragon – than he did anything else. I think he still loved me, in the end, but he knew I couldn’t give him what he wanted. And in truth, I didn’t want to. I had given him a beautiful daughter and a son made in his image, any other would be happy with that.”

“…do you think he loved Lyanna?” She knows he doesn’t ask to spite her or hurt her. She wonders if it would be better or worse for him to know what she truly thought. Regardless, they have not lied to one another yet, and she will not begin doing so now.

“I don’t think so.” She admits, “I think, perhaps, he might have loved the idea of her, and the idea of the child she may be able to give him, but I don’t think he loved your sister as she was.” He is frowning again, and she hastens to continue, “I could be wrong. Perhaps it was like a song, and they fell in love for true. By the end, Rhaegar was a stranger to me.” There is no bitterness in her voice, but perhaps a touch of wistfulness.

Then her husband speaks, contrite and sweet and her wistfulness fades like it was never there, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that of you.”

“It wasn’t tactful.” She agrees with a small sort of smile, for she would happily take this man’s love over the love she once had for the boy Rhaegar had been, “You can make it up to me by coming to eat.”

Before he can answer her, a _terrifying_ shout echoes through the crypts and Elia nearly jumps out of her skin, clinging to Ned’s side and pressing her face into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming in reply. Ned’s hand flits to his waist, to his sword, body tensing.

“I’ve come to save you from the ghosts!” Aegon cries, and Elia jerks back, looking around Ned to the front of the crypts, where he is swinging around a practice sword, eyes darting every which way. Following two steps behind, ever dutiful and loyal to his big brother, Jon carries his own sword, but did not seem near as enthused to be here. She has never once met a toddler as gloomy as him, and he and Aegon contrast in personality near as much as they do in looks.

“By the gods…” Elia mutters, now that her racing heart has calmed, and she gives Ned a playful shove when his shoulders start shaking with obviously suppressed chuckles. “Boys, you aren’t supposed to be down here!” Moving around her unhelpful husband, she leans down to look the _fearsome warriors_ in the eyes and questions, “And who told you there were ghosts here?” Jon avoids her eyes, telling her the answer by his reticence. Never is he eager to tattle on Rhaenys, even if it might save him from trouble. Aegon has no such loyalty and sings like a bird in hopes of escaping punishment.

“There are no ghosts here, only Starks.” Ned intones and she glances back as he approaches, glad to see the sorrow has fled his face and his eyes are smiling even if his mouth is stern. “Is it not time to eat, children?”

“You’re late too.” Jon points out in a quiet but _stubborn_ voice, and Aegon immediately latches on to the idea, bolstering his brother’s opinion with his own loud encouragement. She can see Ned’s shoulders shaking again, and she rolls her eyes, allowing him to usher the kids out of the crypt.

Turning back, she retrieves her lantern at the base of Lyanna’s statue, pausing a moment to look up to her once more. A gentle hand reaches out to rest on the cold stone fingers of the girl and Elia murmurs a prayer, even if they've never shared the same gods. A prayer, a promise, and even some thanks.

_I will never thank you for what you and Rhaegar did, Lyanna. But I will care for you son as if he were my own, raise him amongst his siblings and call him mine. And I will thank you for leading me to your brother, if nothing else. Rest easy._

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this Lyanna/Rhaegar interpretation is just the way Elia sees it. If you want my own opinion, that's cool, but no one get snippity at me because Elia said she didn't think Rhaegar actually loved Lyanna. Like, ship whatever you want, I don't care lol. 
> 
> As mentioned, this is a bit of a time skip. This is four years after the Rebellion ended, at this point. Two years until the Greyjoy Rebellion. Elia is around 30, Ned around 25. Kids: Rhaenys - 7, Aegon - 5, Jon - 4. Just to put it all into perspective. I may go back and do a one shot with a stronger love confession (ie, actual I love yous) because that has happened at this point. I’ve just been pushing forward to the next work in the series: a surprise multichapter! (Believe me, it surprises me.) But hey, it’s little, only like 4 to 5 chapters, covering the Greyjoy Rebellion (and a FAR more important event than some silly squids, but I won’t spoil that. XD)
> 
> (Though, I might flip reverse this and first do a oneshot with Ned's feelings on this interaction, since it was mostly Elia talking, but idk, we'll see.)
> 
> After that, I have a few more oneshot ideas, currently six, but that could grow in number if ideas come to me. Then, I’ll decide whether I’m committing to a full long work going through the actual first book/first season of the show. That depends mostly on whether I've finished my current full long work, which is a Domeric Bolton/Sansa Stark thing I'm in the process of doing. (Me and my rare pairs man, oof.) :)
> 
> All that being said, if you have the money to spare, feel free to buy me a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/sekhmettt) in this trying time. God knows I need it. If you do and have a fic request for this series or anything else, let me know and I’ll definitely give it my best shot. <3


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